Category: Easter

Even as Easter moves swiftly on, it is valuable to ponder some of the puzzling aspects of the resurrection. In this, St. Thomas Aquinas remains our teacher, along with the Fathers of the Church whom he references.

Let’s explore the enigmatic statement of our Lord Jesus to Mary Magdalene:

Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God” (John 20:17).

There is much to ponder and distinguish here.

First, we should set aside certain previous translations (e.g., the King James and the Douay-Rheims), which rendered “Do not cling to me” as “Do not touch me.” The Greek text has subtleties that were missed in these early English translations. “Do not touch me” sounds almost rude. The Greek expression Μή μου ἅπτου (Me mou haptou) is best rendered, “Do not go on clinging to me” because haptou is a verb in the middle voice.

The middle voice is one that English lacks. It is midway between the active and passive voices and indicates that the subject of the verb (in this case, Mary) both acts and is acted upon. Mary lays hold of the Lord, but needs to do so in light of the fact that something is different. Something deeper is being shown to her and she is missing that. Mary actively sees as alive the Jesus she has known, but passively needs to receive something new about Him. This is the middle voice, with elements of the active and the passive.

Further as Strong’s Greek dictionary sets forth, ἅπτω (haptou) means, “to fasten to,” “to adhere to,” or “to cling to.” The translation “Do not touch me” misses a subtle difference. What the Lord asks of Mary is that she not merely cling to what is familiar, but step back and see what is new. He is no longer a mere rabbi or teacher. He is not merely the Jesus she knew; He is Lord and He is risen.

Second, we must ponder what Jesus means when He says that He is ascending. St. Thomas Aquinas teaches that these words can be understood in two ways.

As Augustine says (Tract. cxxi super Joan.), “these words of our Lord, ‘Do not touch Me, for I am not yet ascended to My Father,’” show “that in that woman there is a figure of the Church of the Gentiles, which did not believe in Christ until He was ascended to the Father. …” (Summa Theologiae III, Q. 55, Art. 6, Reply to Obj. 3)

This seems weak to me because although Scripture does speak to later ages, it also speaks to those who experienced it contemporaneously. Thus, to say that it refers to the Church of the Gentiles should not be understood exclusively, for it also must have spoken to Mary and the non-Gentiles of the time. St. Augustine is and was far holier than I, so if there is doubt, listen to him, not me, but I don’t believe that we should reduce the Lord’s meaning only to this.

[Augustine says] “… Jesus would have us to believe in Him, i.e. to touch Him spiritually, as being Himself one with the Father. For to that man’s innermost perceptions He is, in some sort, ascended unto the Father, who has become so far proficient in Him, as to recognize in Him the equal with the Father … whereas she as yet believed in Him but carnally, since she wept for Him as for a man.” Or as Chrysostom says (Hom. lxxxvi in Joan.): “This woman wanted to converse with Christ just as before the Passion, and out of joy was thinking of nothing great, although Christ’s flesh had become much nobler by rising again.” And therefore He said: “I have not yet ascended to My Father”; as if to say: “Do not suppose I am leading an earthly life; for if you see Me upon earth, it is because I have not yet ascended to My Father, but I am going to ascend shortly.” Hence He goes on to say: “I ascend to My Father, and to your Father” (Ibid).

In other words, Jesus’ ascent in Mary (and in every other follower) must take place. He is far more than a man resuming mortal nature. He is more; He is Lord. We must come to see Him as Lord and God. In this way, He must ascend in our sight. We must see Him at a higher level and in a higher way. He is no mere sage or rabbi; He is Lord and God! He must ascend in this way, in our understanding.

In recent years, Mary had rightly reverenced Jesus as teacher and rabbi, but Jesus the Lord is doing more now than merely leading an earthly life and fitting into earthly categories.

In effect, Jesus is saying to Mary, “Don’t go on clinging to what in Me is familiar to you. Step back, take a good look, and then go tell my brothers what you see.”

When Mary Magdalene did this, she ran to the apostles and said, “I have seen the LORD (emphasis mine)” (Jn 20:18). I presented “LORD” in uppercase here because up until this point, Mary had used the word “Lord” as a title of human respect. She had said, “They have taken my Lord and I don’t know where they have put him.” Of course, regarding the divine LORD, you don’t take Him and put Him anywhere. He is LORD and He does as He pleases. Now, no longer clinging to him in merely a familiar way, Mary says, “I have seen the LORD (emphasis mine),” meaning it in a plenary and divine sense.

For Mary, the Lord is ascending. She is seeing Him in a higher way. The Lord has ascended for Mary Magdalene. How about for you?

Finally, what of the Lord’s expression that He was ascending to “My Father and your Father, to My God and your God”?

In English, we can use the word “and” in either an equivalent or a comparative sense. I could say to someone, “You are my brother and my friend.” This uses the “and of equivalence” because it indicates that you are both a brother and a friend to me in the same, or in an equivalent way.

Other uses of the word “and” indicate a more comparative sense. When we say that Jesus is “Son of God and Son of Mary,” we mean that He is the Son of His Father in a different way than He is Son of Mary. He is Son of both, but in very different ways. In the liturgy, when the priest says, “Pray, brethren, that my sacrifice and yours may be acceptable to God the almighty Father,” he indicates that while both his sacrifice and the sacrifice of the people are both sacrifices, they are sacrifices in different ways. The priest acts in persona Christi capitis (in the person of Christ the head), while the faithful act as members of the body. Both are rightly called sacrifices, but they are so in different ways.

Thus, when Jesus says that He is ascending to “My Father and your Father,” He does not use the “and of equivalence” but the “and of comparison.” As a man, Jesus can speak of God as His Father, but His human nature is hypostatically united to His divine nature as God, the Second Person of the Trinity. So, although God is our Father and also Christ’s Father, He is Christ’s Father in a far richer and more profound way.

He says to them, “My God and your God,” not by way of equivalence, but by way of comparison.

In all these ways, the Lord Jesus must ascend in our understanding. He will do so, as long as we do not go on clinging to Him in a merely human and familiar way.

Let the Lord ascend in your life.

In today’s Gospel we encounter two discouraged and broken men making their way to Emmaus. The text describes them as “downcast.” That is to say, their eyes are cast on the ground, their heads are hung low. Their Lord and Messiah has been killed, the one they had thought would finally liberate Israel. Some women had claimed that He was alive, but these disciples have discredited those reports and are now leaving Jerusalem. It is late in the afternoon and the sun is sinking low.

They are also moving in the wrong direction, West, away from Jerusalem, away form the resurrection. They have their backs to the Lord, rising in the East.

The men cannot see or understand God’s plan. They cannot “see” that He must be alive, just as they were told. They are quite blind as to the glorious things that happened hours before. In this, they are much like us, who also struggle to see and understand that we have already won the victory. Too easily our eyes are cast downward in depression rather than upward in faith.

How will the Lord give them vision? How will He reorient them, turn them in the right direction? How will He enable them to see His risen glory? How will He encourage them to look up from their downward focus and behold new life?

If you are prepared to “see” it, the Lord will celebrate Holy Mass with them. In the context of a sacred meal we call the Mass, He will open their eyes and they will recognize Him; they will see glory and new life.

Note that the entire gospel, not just the last part, is in the form of a Mass. There is a gathering, a penitential rite, a Liturgy of the Word, intercessory prayers, a Liturgy of the Eucharist, and an ite missa est. In this manner of a whole Mass, they have their eyes opened to Him and to glory. They will fulfill the psalm that says, Taste, and see, the goodness of the Lord (Psalm 34:8).

Let’s examine this Mass, which opens their eyes, and ponder how we also taste and see in every Mass.

Stage One: Gathering Rite – The curtain rises on this Mass with two disciples having gathered together on a journey: Now that very day two of them were going to a village seven miles from Jerusalem called Emmaus (Lk 24:13). We have already discussed above that they are in the midst of a serious struggle and are downcast. We only know one of them by name, Cleopas. Who is the other? If you are prepared to accept it, the other is you. So, they have gathered. This is what we do as the preliminary act of every Mass. We who are pilgrims on a journey come together on our journey.

It so happens for these two disciples that Jesus joins them: And it happened that while they were conversing and debating, Jesus himself drew near and walked with them (Luke 24:15). The text goes on to tell us that they did not recognize Jesus yet.

The Lord walks with us, too. It is essential to acknowledge by faith that when we gather together at Mass the Lord Jesus is with us. Scripture says, For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them (Matt 18:20). For many of us, too, although Jesus is present we do not recognize Him. Yet he is no less among us than He was present to these two disciples who fail to recognize Him.

Liturgically, we acknowledge the presence of the Lord at the beginning of the Mass in two ways. First, as the priest processes down the aisle the congregation sings a hymn of praise. It is not “Fr. Jones” they praise; it is Jesus, whom “Fr. Jones” represents. Once at the chair the celebrant (who is really Christ) says, “The Lord be with you.” In so doing He announces the presence of Christ among us promised by the Scriptures.

The Mass has now begun and our two disciples are gathered; the Lord is with them. So, too, for us at every Mass. The two disciples still struggle to see the Lord, to experience new life, and to realize that the victory has already been won. So, too, do some of us who gather for Mass. The fact that these disciples are gathered is already the beginning of the solution. Mass has begun. Help is on the way!

Stage Two: Penitential Rite – The two disciples seem troubled and the Lord inquires of them the source of their distress: What are you discussing as you walk along? (Lk 24:17). In effect, the Lord invites them to speak with Him about what is troubling them. It may also be a gentle rebuke from the Lord that the two of them are walking away from Jerusalem, away from the site of the resurrection.

Clearly their sorrow and distress are governing their behavior. Even though they have already heard evidence of Jesus’ resurrection (cf 24:22-24), they seem hopeless and have turned away from this good news.

Thus the Lord engages them in a kind of gentle penitential rite, engages them about their negativity.

So, too, for us at Mass. The penitential rite is a moment when the celebrant (who is really Christ) invites us to lay down our burdens and sins before the Lord, who alone can heal us. We, too, often enter the presence of God looking downcast and carrying many burdens and sins. Like these disciples, we may be walking in the wrong direction. In effect, the Lord says to us, “What are thinking about and doing as you walk along? Where are you going with your life?”

The Lord asks them to articulate their struggles. This calling to mind of struggles, for them that day and for us in the penitential rite, is a first step to healing and recovery of sight.

Again, we see in this story about the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, the Mass that is so familiar to us.

Stage Three: Liturgy of the Word – In response to their concerns and struggles, the Lord breaks open the Word of God, the Scriptures: Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them what referred to him in all the scriptures (Luke 24:27).

Not only does the Lord refer to Scripture, He interprets it for them. Hence the Word is not merely read; there is a homily, an explanation and application of the Scripture to the men’s struggles. The homily must have been a good one, too, for the disciples later remark, Were not our hearts burning (within us) while he spoke to us on the way and opened the scriptures to us? (Luke 24:32)

So, too, for us at Mass. Whatever struggles we may have brought, the Lord bids us to listen to His Word as the Scriptures are proclaimed. Then the homilist (who is really Christ) interprets and applies the Word to our life. Although the Lord works through a weak human agent (the priest or deacon), He can write straight with crooked lines. As long as the homilist is orthodox, it is Christ who speaks. Pray for your homilist to be an obedient and useful instrument for Christ at the homily moment.

Notice, too, that although the disciples do not yet fully see, their downcast attitude is gone; their hearts are now on fire. Pray God, that it will be so for us who come to Mass each week and hear from God that the victory is already ours in Christ Jesus. God reminds us, through Scripture passages that repeat every three years, that although the cross is part of our life, the resurrection surely is, too. We are carrying our crosses to an eternal Easter victory. If we are faithful to listening to God’s Word, hope and joy build within our hearts and we come, through being transformed by Christ in the Liturgy, to be men and women of hope and confidence.

Stage Four: Intercessory Prayers – After the homily, we usually make prayers and requests of Christ. We do this based on the hope, provided by His Word, that He lives, loves us, and is able. So it is that we also see these two disciples request of Christ, Stay with us, for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over (Luke 24:29).

Is this not what we are doing when we say, in so many words, “Stay with us, Lord, for it is sometimes dark in our lives and the shadows are growing long. Stay with us, Lord, and with those we love, so that we will not be alone in the dark. In our darkest hours, be to us a light, O Lord, a light that never fades away”?

Indeed, it is already getting brighter, for we are already more than halfway through the Mass!

Stage Five: Liturgy of the Eucharist – Christ does stay with them. Then come the lines that no Catholic could miss: And it happened that, while he was with them at table, he took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and gave it to them (Luke 24:30). Yes, it is the Mass to be sure. All the basic actions of the Eucharist are there: He took, blessed, broke, and gave. They are the same actions that took place at the Last Supper and that we repeat at every Mass. Later, the two disciples refer back to this moment as the breaking of the bread (Luke 24:35), a clear biblical reference to the Holy Eucharist.

The words of Mass immediately come to mind: “While they were at supper, He took the bread and gave you thanks and praise. He broke the bread, gave it to His disciples, and said, “Take this all of you and eat it. This is my Body, which will be given up for you.”

A fascinating thing then occurs: With that their eyes were opened and they recognized him, but he vanished from their sight (Luke 24:31).

It is the very act of consecration that opens their eyes. Is this not what Holy Communion is to do for us? Are we not to learn to recognize Christ by the very mysteries we celebrate? Are we not to “taste and see”?

The liturgy and the sacraments are not mere rituals; they are encounters with Jesus Christ. Through our repeated celebration of the holy mysteries, our eyes are increasingly opened, if we are faithful. We learn to see and hear Christ in the liturgy, to experience his ministry to us.

The fact that Jesus vanishes from their sight teaches us that He is no longer seen with the eyes of the flesh, but with the eyes of faith and the eyes of the heart. Although He is gone from our earthly, fleshly, carnal sight, He is now to be seen in the sacrament of the altar and experienced in the Liturgy and in other sacraments. The Mass has reached its pinnacle for these two disciples and for us. They have tasted and now they see.

Consider these two men who began this Gospel quite downcast. Their hearts are on fire and they now see. The Lord has celebrated Mass in order to get them to this point. So, too, for us: the Lord celebrates Mass in order to set our hearts on fire and open our eyes to glory. We need to taste in order to see.

I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears. Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame. This poor man called, and the Lord heard him; he saved him out of all his troubles. … Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him (Psalm 34:4-8).

Yes, blessed are we if we faithfully taste in order to see, every Sunday at Mass.

Stage Six: Ite Missa Est – Not able to contain their joy or hide their experience, the two disciples run seven miles back to Jerusalem to tell their brethren what has happened and how they encountered Jesus in the breaking of the bread. They want to, they must speak of the Christ they have encountered, what He said and what He did.

Note that this liturgy has reoriented them. They are now heading back east, toward the Risen Son.

How about us? At the end of every Mass, the priest or deacon says, “The Mass is ended. Go in peace.” This does not mean, “We’re done, go home and have nice day.” It means, “Go into the world and bring the Christ you have received to others. Tell them what you have seen and heard here, what you have experienced. Share with others the joy and hope that this Liturgy gives.”

Have you ever noticed that part of the word “mission” is in the word “dismissal”? You are being commissioned, sent on a mission to announce Christ to others.

Finally, the Lucan text says of these two disciples, So they set out at once and returned to Jerusalem where they found gathered together the eleven and those with them … Then the two recounted what had taken place on the way and how he was made known to them in the breaking of the bread (Lk 24:33,35). How about us? Does our Mass finish that well, that enthusiastically? Can you tell others that you have come to Christ in “the breaking of the bread,” in the Mass?

Jesus has used the Mass to drawn them from gloom to glory, from downcast to delighted, from darkness to light. It was the Mass. Do you “see” it there? It is the Mass. What else could it be?

It is curious that upon rising from the dead the Lord appeared to Mary Magdalene and other women before appearing to the Apostles, His chosen witnesses. It is even stranger that He sent the women to the Apostles as witnesses, given that women were not considered valid witnesses at that time. Indeed, the Apostles do resist their testimony, considering it fanciful. While this behavior makes many modern people wince, it is not presented as a way of approving those reactions, but in order to highlight the curious fact that the Lord would send the women to the Apostles.

A common modern tendency (and I would say error) is to interpret the Lord’s actions sociologically and with a kind of revolutionary meaning. Many today prefer to see the Lord as an ancient version of a 1960s radical, so that in sending the women He was dismissing and overthrowing the social order of the time. They then continue by claiming that the Lord was pointing toward our far more “enlightened” times and would have us go even further, by ordaining women for example.

Aside from the radical revolutionary elements, the sociological interpretation has some validity. The Lord is in fact bypassing the norms of His day in sending the women to the Apostles.

But it is refreshing and enlightening to consider the action of the Lord theologically and spiritually as well. This seems a more likely purpose of the Scripture than as a sociological commentary or a tool for cultural revolution.

In his Summa Theologiae, St. Thomas Aquinas considers the meaning of Jesus sending the women, summarizing the interpretation of others and adding his own thoughts. St. Thomas’ teachings are presented in bold, black italics, while my comments are shown in plain red text. The sections shown below are all from the Summa Theologiae Part III, Q. 55, Art. 1, Obj. 3.

St. Thomas’ replies to an objection that it was not in fact fitting for Christ to appear first to the women and then send them to the Apostles. Thomas records the objection to his teaching as follows:

Objection 3 … Now [the apostles] bore witness by preaching in public: and this is unbecoming in women, according to 1 Corinthians 14:34: “Let women keep silence in the churches”: and 1 Timothy 2:12: “I suffer not a woman to teach.” Therefore, it does not seem becoming for Christ’s Resurrection to be manifested first of all to the women and afterwards to mankind in general.

The stated objection is not without merit and should not simply be dismissed as misogynistic. The texts referenced from First Corinthians and First Timothy are underreported today, likely because they make modern people uncomfortable and because many commentators dismiss them as merely cultural artifacts.

But in these writings, St. Paul (and the Holy Spirit who inspired him) does not appeal merely to custom or culture. He gives a theological reason for the inappropriateness of women giving the official teaching of the Church in the Liturgy and other such gatherings. He writes, For Adam was formed first, then Eve; and Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor (1 Tim 2:13-14).

In this passage, St. Paul is reflecting the teaching of Genesis, which describes the roles of Adam and Eve in the first sin differently: When confronted by the Lord, Eve responds, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate” (Genesis 3:12). But the text says that Adam’s response was “The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate” (Gen 3:11).

So Eve was deceived and then was able to tempt Adam. This is at the heart of why St. Paul says that a woman should not teach officially in the Church. Although politically incorrect today, Paul argues that women are generally more easily deceived by the evil one. Also implicit in the Genesis text, a woman (perhaps through her beauty) can unduly influence men, who are often weak in this regard.

This sort of reflection elicits many objections today, both rational and emotional, but the sacred texts from St. Paul and Genesis should not be simply set aside as cultural artifacts. They are also theological reflections and deserve our attention. I have written more on this topic here: How is Adam’s Sin Different from Eve’s?.

St. Thomas makes an important distinction and shows why, despite the texts of Scripture, the objection does not hold in this case. He writes,

Reply to Objection 3. A woman is not to be allowed to teach publicly in church; but she may be permitted to give familiar instruction to some privately. And therefore as Ambrose says on Luke 24:22, “a woman is sent to them who are of her household,” but not to the people to bear witness to the Resurrection.

Thus the objection is set aside in this case because although a woman should not give magisterial teaching in the sacred assembly, it is certainly fitting that she should witness to and give instruction within her household.

St. Paul also mentions many women (Lydia, Chloe, Nympha, Apphia, Mary, Persis, Tryphena, Tryphosa, Priscilla, Euodia, Syntyche, Phoebe, and Junia) participating in extended roles of service and in the work of evangelization. Outside the liturgy and other modes of official teaching, St. Paul’s teaching of women remaining silent does not seem to apply.

St. Thomas here reminds us of an important distinction. While a woman is excluded from giving the official teaching in the liturgy, in the familial setting she is still called to be among those who teach and bear witness. St. Thomas implies that the Apostles and first disciples form a family, hence there is no violation of the norms.

St. Thomas then turns his attention to another reason that it was fitting for the women to see Christ first and then to announce this to the Apostles:

But Christ appeared to the woman first, for this reason, that as a woman was the first to bring the source of death to man, so she might be the first to announce the dawn of Christ’s glorious Resurrection. Hence Cyril says on John 20:17: “Woman who formerly was the minister of death, is the first to see and proclaim the adorable mystery of the Resurrection: thus womankind has procured absolution from ignominy, and removal of the curse.”

Here is a great reversal of the order of Original Sin. Whereas Eve was deceived and then enticed her husband, now woman is offered the opportunity to see first and then to call man back from darkness and sin to behold the grace of the resurrection glory.

St. Thomas then adds a third teaching:

Hereby, moreover, it is shown, so far as the state of glory is concerned, that the female sex shall suffer no hurt; but if women burn with greater charity, they shall also attain greater glory from the Divine vision: because the women whose love for our Lord was more persistent—so much so that “when even the disciples withdrew” from the sepulchre “they did not depart” [Gregory, Hom. xxv in Evang.]—were the first to see Him rising in glory.

Love more quickly lays hold of the beloved than does mere affinity or friendship. The intensity of the women’s love described in the scriptural account makes them more tenacious and the Lord rewards such love, sending them to men of the family of disciples. Indeed, many a man has been saved unto the Lord by the devotion of his wife and her constant call for him to join her at the Lord’s feet.

Beyond theology, it is a culturally observed phenomenon that women are more naturally spiritual and intense than men. And while this may have disposed Eve to be too willing to succumb to the deceiving appeals of Satan, it is also what made Mary Magdalene and the other women more able to see him first.

Here, then, are some reflections, popular or not, on the sending of the women to the Apostles. The reflections are not devoid of sociological or cultural elements, they are rooted more richly in the world of spirituality and theology. To those who consider such reflections antiquated or even obnoxious, let me counsel contemplation and consideration rather than reaction. Often, the challenging and upsetting teachings of Scripture have much to teach us.

The Easter Vigil so recently celebrated provides a rich fare for reflection. Alas, its memories pass so quickly. The shadowy yet wonderful Easter Vigil is the greatest and most elaborate liturgy of the Church year.

Due to its length and late hour, many Catholics have never rejoiced in the somber glow of its initial moments or in the blaze of glory and sacraments that follow. It features a presentation of the dramatic battle between darkness and light; the light wins, it always wins and the darkness is scattered.

The Easter Vigil is the manifestation of what St. John wrote in the prologue of his Gospel: The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it (Jn 1:5). Psalm 20 says, Weeping may endure for a night, but joy will come with the morning light (Ps 30:5). Peter wrote, And we have the more certain prophetic word, to which you do well taking heed, as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until this day shall have dawned and the morning star shall have arisen in your hearts (2 Peter 1:19).

As the paschal candle enters the Church, the cries go up: “Jesus is the Light of the world and this Light shall never be extinguished!”

Rather than allow the liturgy of the Easter Vigil pass unremarked, let’s consider some of its details and the teachings that its solemn richness bestows. The following are but a few observations and teachings from its opening moments.

1. Pillar of fire and cloud – After the Easter fire is blessed, the paschal candle is lit. The candle is an image of Christ our Light. In the Book of Exodus, we are taught how Christ was mystically present in the Exodus.

By day the LORD went ahead of them in a pillar of cloud to guide them on their way and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, so that they could travel by day or night (Exodus 13:21). Christ is the true light who led them.

These two images of the pillar of cloud and the pillar of fire come together in the Easter Vigil. Although we begin outside, we are led into the Church first by the pillar of cloud (symbolized by the incense at the head of the procession) and followed by the pillar of fire (the paschal candle). Just as the ancient Israelites went forth in the Exodus out of slavery into freedom, so do we.

The pillar of fire illuminates our night and the pillar of cloud keeps our enemies, the demons, at bay. As many exorcists attest, Satan and his minions hate blessed incense.

Scripture says, The angel of God, who had been going before the camp of Israel, moved and went behind them; and the pillar of cloud moved from before them and stood behind them. So it came between the camp of Egypt and the camp of Israel; and there was the cloud along with the darkness, yet it gave light at night. Thus the one did not come near the other all night (Ex 14:19-20). For us, holy incense enshrouds us on the night of the Easter Vigil and separates us from our ancient foe and his fallen angels, just as the pillar of cloud did in the first Exodus.

And of the pillar of Fire there came a critical moment in the Exodus, which Scripture describes: At the morning watch, the LORD cast a glance on the army of the Egyptians through the pillar of fire and cloud and brought the army of the Egyptians into confusion (Ex 14:24). So too, the light of Christ scatters and confuses the satanic powers in our time as well.

All of this comes to mind as the incense (the pillar of cloud) and the Easter candle (the pillar of fire) go into the Church before us and the incense surrounds us and acts like a rear guard.

2. A Picture of the New Covenant – But there is still more meaning in the incense and the paschal candle. In Genesis 15, we are told that God made a covenant with Abraham:

The LORD said to him, “Bring me a heifer three years old, a female goat three years old, a ram three years old, a turtledove, and a young pigeon.” And he brought him all these, cut them in half, and laid each half over against the other. But he did not cut the birds in half… As the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell on Abram. And behold, dreadful and great darkness fell upon him. Then the Lord said to Abram, “Know for certain that your offspring will be sojourners in a land that is not theirs and will be servants there, and they will be afflicted for four hundred years. But I will bring judgment on the nation that they serve, and afterward they shall come out with great possessions. … When the sun had gone down and it was dark, behold, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces. On that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram (Gen 15:9-18).

Thus the smoking fire pot of the incense thurible and the pillar of fire that is the Easter candle also announce the New Covenant that the Lord offers on this night, when the once-for-all paschal mystery is made present to us.

Yes, all of this from incense and the Easter candle! (These insights are developed well by The Liturgy Guys, an excellent podcast that I highly recommend.)

3. Clothed in Light – As the flame of the paschal candle is shared, a darkened Church is clothed in light. The Exsultet, or Easter Proclamation, is read or sung by the deacon or priest at the arrival of the candle in the sanctuary. One part is as follows: Rejoice, let Mother Church also rejoice, arrayed with the lightning of his glory.

Yes, just as in Heaven we will not be arrayed in garments of mere cloth but of light, Mother Church now see herself clothed in light, the Lord’s light. As the Book of Revelation says, “Hallelujah! For our Lord God, the Almighty, reigns. Let us rejoice and celebrate and give Him the glory. For the marriage of the Lamb has come, and His bride has made herself ready. She was given clothing of fine linen, linen bright and pure.” For the “fine linen” she wears is the righteousness of the saints (Rev 19:6-8). On this most holy night, Christ the Bridegroom comes and says to His bride the Church, Awake O sleeper, rise up from the dead, and Christ will shine on you (Eph 5:14).

Further along in the Exsultet, the deacon or priest reads or sings, Therefore, dearest friends, standing in the awesome glory of this holy light, invoke with me, I ask you, the mercy of God almighty, that he, who has been pleased to number me, though unworthy among the Levites, may pour into me his light unshadowed, that I may sing this candle’s perfect praises.

Thus we are clothed in the light of Christ, who alone enlightens us.

4. An undiminishable light – Of the Light of Christ, of the paschal candle, the Exsultet says, a fire into many flames divided, yet never dimmed by sharing of its light. It is a flame divided but undimmed. We live in a world marked by the fear that in sharing with others we will have less. But of love this is not so! Just as the sharing of the Easter light among so many candles does not dim it in the least, neither does the sharing of love or truth diminish it; rather it multiplies. We do well to remember this lesson and stop being so stingy, fearful, and withdrawn. The Easter candle is no less dimmed by being spread. No, it is brighter than ever; the more it is shared the brighter this world gets!

5. A daring and dangerous notion – The Exsultet boldly proclaims, O truly necessary sin of Adam, destroyed completely by the Death of Christ! O happy fault that earned so great, so glorious a Redeemer. Only saints can talk or write so boldly.

To speak of our sin as “necessary” and “happy” can only be done as a sort of hyperbolic flourish within the context of God’s providence. Joseph said to his brothers regarding their great crime against him in selling him into slavery, As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today (Gen 50:20).

Yes, God can write straight with our crooked lines and make a way out of no way. The Exsultet comments, O wonder of your humble care for us! O love, O charity beyond all telling, to ransom a slave you gave away your Son!

There is so much more to say of the Easter Vigil, but let this be enough for now. Particularly if you have never attended the Easter Vigil, please be sure to go next year! Where it is celebrated faithfully, the Easter Vigil is the true summit of the liturgical year and a feast whose riches can never be fully savored.

All of the resurrection stories depict the Apostles and other disciples on a journey of sorts to understand the resurrection. A completely new reality was breaking into their world and challenging their understanding. Far from depicting the disciples as credulous, the texts describe them as shocked, troubled, and even quite dubious. These were not men and women prone to naiveté or to concocting stories to assuage their grief. They are quite stunned by a new reality and struggling to get their minds around something they do not fully understand.

A beautiful example of a journey to resurrection faith is that of Mary Magdalene, who begins her journey on resurrection with the intention of finalizing burial rituals for the corpse of Jesus, and ends by acknowledging that she has seen “the Lord.” Let’s examine her journey as described in the Gospel of John, and see what it has to teach us about our own journey.

By way of background, recall that Mary had gone to the tomb very early, “when it was still dark,” and found the stone rolled back and the tomb empty. She ran and got Peter and John, who then investigated. Although John believed, there was no conclusion announced after their investigation. Peter and John leave and Mary Magdalene is left at the tomb by herself, at least temporarily (for we know from other Gospels that other women were near at hand). Here is where the text picks up:

Then the disciples went back to their homes. But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb, and as she wept she stooped to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and one at the feet. They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “Because they have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” Saying this, she turned round and saw Jesus standing, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom do you seek?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabboni!” (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, “Do not hold me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brethren and say to them, I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.” Mary Magdalene went and said to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”; and she told them that he had said these things to her (John 20:10-18).

Mary Magdalene makes a journey in this passage from fear to faith. Let’s prayerfully examine her journey of faith.

I. Her Fearful Fretting – Mary Magdalene is looking for a corpse. She’d come out to the tomb that morning for one purpose: to finish the prescribed burial customs for Jesus. His body had been placed in the tomb hurriedly on Friday evening, for it was almost sundown and the Passover feast was near. Now the Passover and Sabbath were complete; it was time to anoint the body and finish all the usual customs.

On Friday, Mary had been through immense trauma, seeing her beloved Jesus, her Messiah, brutally tortured and slowly killed through crucifixion. It seemed as if things could not possibly get worse, yet they just did. It would appear, according to her, that grave robbers had broken in and stolen the body. Strangely, they had left the expensive linens behind. But never mind that, things were now a total disaster. Now it would seem that she could not even perform a final kindness for Jesus.

Because of her fearful fretting, Mary is not able to look at the information before her properly. Jesus had promised to rise from the dead, on the third day, and this was the third day. The empty tomb does not signify grave robbers; it manifests resurrection! In her fear and fretful grief, though, Mary draws only the most negative of conclusions.

This, of course, is our human condition. So many of us, on account of fear and perhaps past trauma, tend to place the most negative interpretations on the events of our daily life. We are quick to seize on bad news, and we dismiss good news too easily, or barely notice that every day most things go right. Instead, we focus on the few things that go wrong. So easily we are negative and forget that even in painful transitions, as certain doors close, others open. New possibilities often emerge even in painful circumstances.

Mary is about to encounter something astonishingly new, but for now, her grief has locked her into only the most negative of interpretations.

A. Rhetorical Question – There comes to her, from the angels, a kind of rhetorical question: “Why do you weep?” A rhetorical question is really more of a statement in the form of a question. It is meant to provoke thought and to rebuke, or at least to invite reconsideration. The angels, it would seem, are inviting her to recall that this is the third day and Jesus promised to rise. Therefore, why would she weep over an empty tomb? Jesus, who had raised others from the dead, cast out blindness, calmed storms, and healed lepers, had said that He would rise on the third day. Why weep over an empty tomb? Rather, she should rejoice!

B. Rueful Response – Mary will have none of it, and in her grief she does not take up the consideration offered her by the angels. She states flatly, “I’m looking for a corpse that they’ve taken away. Tell me where you put this corpse so I can continue to go to work.”

Grief does that. It takes away our capacity to see more clearly other possibilities, other interpretations. So easily we turn things into catastrophes in our mind; we assume the worst. Mary is at her lowest, locked into fearful fretting and colossal grief.

II. Her Faulty Finding – The text says, she turned around and saw Jesus there, but did not know it was Jesus. Jesus speaks to her: Woman why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for? Mary thought it was the gardener and goes on speaking of Jesus as a corpse she is looking for.

Why does she not recognize Him? Has He changed his appearance? Or perhaps there were tears in her eyes and she could not see well. We cannot say, but either way, she’s looking right at Jesus but does not recognize Him.

Too often, this is our condition as well. The Lord is more present to us than we are to ourselves; He is more present than anyone or anything in this world. Yet we seem to see everyone and everything except Him. This is our spiritual blindness. We must make a journey in faith and learn to see Him. We must come to the normal Christian life, which is to be in living, conscious contact with Jesus at every moment of the day. Does the sun cease to be present simply because the blind man cannot see it? Of course not. Neither does the Lord cease to be present to us simply because we cannot see Him. We must make the journey of faith wherein our eyes are opened, the eyes of our faith to see God’s presence everywhere.

III. Her First Faith – One of the paradoxes of our faith is that we learn to see by hearing. For Scripture says that faith comes by hearing (Rom 10:17), and faith is a way of knowing and seeing by way of that knowledge.

Jesus speaks and says “Mary.” With this, her faith is enlivened; her eyes are opened and she recognizes Jesus.

We, too, must allow the Lord to speak to us through His Word, so that we can learn to know Him and to see Him by faith, not by fleshly sight.

However, Mary’s faith is only a first faith, an initial faith. It needs maturing, as we shall see in the next point.

IV. Her Fuzzy Focus – Having come to recognize the Lord Jesus, Mary initially wants to smother Him, to cling to Him. Her excess is not merely physical, but bespeaks a kind of clinging to the past. While it is true that the actual body of Jesus is risen and restored to her, the humanity that has been raised is a glorified humanity. There is something new that Mary must step back and behold.

A. Status quo ante – Thus Jesus says to her: Do not hold me. That is, “do not cling to me.” Mary’s gesture of embracing the Lord, and His reaction to it, suggest that something has changed that Mary has not yet fully understood. She clings to Him as He was. It’s as if to say, “Jesus, it’s you! Let’s pick up where we were before the crucifixion.” She thinks of Jesus of Nazareth alive again, but she must also now see the Lord of glory. His crucifixion has led to His glory. That is why Jesus speaks further of the fact that He is ascending to the Father.

We, too, must lay hold of a deeper understanding of Jesus as we make our journey. Or to put it in Jesus’ terms, we must let the Lord “ascend” in our own estimation. Scripture says elsewhere,

From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once regarded Christ from a human point of view, we regard him thus no longer. Therefore, if any one is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, behold, the new has come. All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation (2 Cor 5:16-20).

B. Summons – Mary is then given a summons by Jesus: Go to my brethren. Note that this is the first time that He ever called the Apostles “brethren.” It seems that it took the passion, death, and resurrection to accomplish this. Scripture says,

1. I will tell of thy name to my brethren; in the midst of the congregation I will praise thee: You who fear the LORD, praise him! all you sons of Jacob, glorify him, and stand in awe of him, all you sons of Israel! (Psalm 22:22-23)
2. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the first-born among many brethren (Romans 8:29).
3. For it was fitting that he, for whom and by whom all things exist, in bringing many sons to glory, should make the pioneer of their salvation perfect through suffering. For he who sanctifies and those who are sanctified have all one origin. That is why he is not ashamed to call them brethren, saying, “I will proclaim thy name to my brethren, in the midst of the congregation I will praise thee.” And again, “I will put my trust in him.” And again, “Here am I, and the children God has given me” (Heb 2:101-3).

Mary is further told that she should say to them, I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to My God and your God.

V. Fullness of Faith – In this last stage, Mary makes a significant step in her journey. She comes to a fuller faith based on this interaction with the Risen Jesus. How? When she goes to the apostles, she says, I have seen the Lord. She does not merely say, “I have seen Jesus.” She calls Him “the Lord.” It is true that the term “Lord” could simply be a term of respect like “Sir,” but there seems to be a shift in Mary’s understanding. She goes from using the term “Lord” to refer to a corpse that has been taken and put somewhere, to simply and authoritatively saying, “I have seen the Lord.” That is, “I have seen Jesus, who is Lord and God. He is risen and is ascending, and He has given me a word for you endowed with plenary authority.” This is resurrection faith: to see the glory of Jesus and understand that He is the Lord of glory and the Word who is God.

Here is true Easter faith. Not merely to see a corpse come back to life, but also to be able to see who He really is: “the Lord” (ton Kyrion). Jesus is Lord and is risen from the dead. Scripture says elsewhere,

Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. Therefore, God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father (Phil 2:5).

Mary Magdalene has made a journey from fear to faith. She began by looking for a corpse to anoint. She ends by making the mature Easter declaration: “I have seen the Lord.” It is truly Jesus who is risen in the self-same body. But He is glorified and now shows forth fully the refulgence of His glory as the eternal Son of God and Son of Man. To come to Easter faith is not only to see Jesus of Nazareth raised from the dead, but even more so to behold that He is the Lord of Glory.

Mary has made the journey. How about you?

There is something of a hidden quality to the resurrection appearances that has always puzzled me. St. Peter gives voice to this when he says to Cornelius,

God raised Jesus from the dead on the third day and granted that he be visible, not to all people, but to us, the witnesses chosen by God in advance, who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead. He commissioned us to preach to the people and to testify that he is the one appointed by God as judge of the living and the dead (Acts 10:41 to 42).

Note that Jesus did not appear openly to all but rather only to some. Why is this? It is so different from what most of us would do.

If I were God (and it is very good for you that I am not), I would rise from the dead very dramatically. Perhaps I would summon people to my tomb with trumpet blasts and then emerge amid great fanfare (including a multitude of angels), inspiring awe and striking fear in the hearts of the enemies who had killed me. Or maybe I would ride down on a lightning bolt right into the temple precincts and then go up to the high priest and tell him to seek other employment. Surely to accomplish such a feat would be an event that would never be forgotten! It would draw many to faith, would it not?

And yet the Lord does none of this! Not only did He appear only to some after His resurrection, but the actual dramatic moment of the resurrection itself seems to have been witnessed by no one at all. Instead of emerging from the tomb in broad daylight to the sound of trumpets, the Lord seems to have come forth before dawn to the sound of nothing but crickets chirping. Although St. Matthew mentions a great earthquake causing the rolling back of the stone and the guards stunned into unconsciousness, it seems that Jesus had already risen from the dead before the stone was rolled back.

Such a hidden event! It was the greatest event the world has ever known, and yet it was hidden from human eyes. No, this is not our way at all; Cecil B. DeMille would not be pleased.

And then when the Lord does appear, it is only to some. Two of the appearances have often intrigued me because the details are so sparse; they are really mentioned only in passing.

One is the appearance to Peter. It would seem that the Lord appeared to Peter before appearing to the other apostles on that first resurrection evening, for when the two disciples return from Emmaus they are greeted with the acclamation, The Lord has truly been raised, he has appeared to Simon (Luke 24:34). Shortly thereafter, the Lord appears to ten of the Apostles along with some of the disciples.

Why is there so little information about this appearance to Simon Peter? We are told in great detail about a conversation between Jesus and Peter two weeks later in Galilee (John 21), but of this first appearance in Jerusalem we hear only this passing reference.

In a certain sense it is a very significant appearance because it elevates the resurrection from just “some news” that the women were sharing, to the apostolic proclamation, the Lord has truly been raised. What moves it from rumor to fact? The difference is that he has appeared to Simon. Here is a kind of early and seminal act of the Petrine office and the Magisterium! But of this crucial apparition, no details are supplied.

The other appearance cloaked in obscurity is His appearance to the five hundred, which Paul relates here:

He appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. After that He appeared to more than five hundred brethren at one time, most of whom remain until now, but some have fallen asleep (1 Cor 15:5-6).

This is an amazing appearance; it’s not to just two or three, or even to a dozen, but to five hundred at once; yet no details are supplied. Where did it happen? When? For how long? What did the Lord say? What did He do? Silence.

And then there are the resurrection appearances that never happened (but to worldly minds should have): Jesus’ appearance to His accusers and persecutors, to Caiaphas, to the Sanhedrin, to Pilate, and to all who jeered at Him as He hung on the cross. Surely they deserved a good dressing down—and they probably could’ve used it as well. Who knows, maybe they would have fallen to their knees and converted on the spot; maybe they would have worshiped Jesus.

Such are my thoughts on the strange and hidden quality of the resurrection. Why so hidden? Why so selective an audience? Ultimately, I can only venture a guess, a kind of theological hunch, if you will.

My speculation is rooted in the identity of God: God is love (1 Jn 4:16). Love is not merely something God does, nor is it just one of His many attributes. Scripture says that God is love. And it is the nature of true love (as opposed to lust) to inspire in the lover the desire to woo the beloved; to invite rather than overwhelm, importune, force, or coerce. The lover wants to be loved, but forcing the beloved to love or overwhelming the cherished into a fearful love would mean not receiving true love in return.

It is Satan’s nature to pressure, tempt, and overwhelm, in order to coerce us into sin. He is loud and loves to use fear as a motivator.

In contrast, God whispers. He calls us and gently draws us in. He provides evidence and supplies grace, but does not overwhelm us with fearsome or noisy events. He is the still, small voice that Elijah heard after the fire and the earthquake (1 Kings 19:12). He is the One who has written His name in our hearts and whispers there quietly: Seek always the face of the Lord (1 Chron 16:11). At times He does allow our life to be shaken a bit, but even then it is more often something that He allows rather than directly causes.

God is not interested in loud, flashy entrances or in humiliating His opponents. He does not have a big ego. Even if He chose to compel the Temple leadership to worship Him by using shock and awe, it is unlikely that their faith response would be genuine. Faith that needs to see isn’t really faith; one doesn’t need faith to believe what one can plainly see.

Thus the Lord does rise from the dead and He does supply evidence to witnesses who had faith—at least enough faith to be rewarded. He then sends these eyewitnesses, supplies His graces, and provides us with other evidence so that we can believe and love. None of this, however, is done in a way that overwhelms us or forces us to believe.

God is love and love seeks a free and faithful response. The hiddenness of the resurrection is an example of tender love. There’s only so much that the human person can take. So the Lord rises quietly and appears (but only briefly) to some and then seems to withdraw—almost as if respectfully giving them time to process what they have experienced. He gives them time to deepen their faith and to come to terms with what was, for them, a completely new reality, one that would change their lives forever.

How different this is from the way we operate! So many of us think in terms of power, fame, glory, vindication, and conquest. How different God is! He is so often tender, hidden, and whispering. He doesn’t need to get “credit” for everything He does. He doesn’t need to crush His enemies. Rather, ruing the day on which their “no” might become a forever “no,” He works to win their love, always hoping for their conversion. Until then, He is always calling, willing, and giving grace. His mercies how tender, how firm to the end, our maker, defender, redeemer, and friend.

Why was the resurrection so hidden? God is love, and love woos; it does not wound. It invites, it does not incite. It calls, it does not crush. It respects, it does not rule or seek revenge. Yes, God is love.

Of her glorious Groom, the Church and Bride says,

Listen! My beloved! There he stands behind our wall, gazing through the windows, peering through the lattice … [He speaks to her and says], “Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, come with me” (Song 2:9-10).

Here’s how Cecil B. DeMille would do the Easter fire:

 

Today’s Gospel is really quite remarkable. For despite the fact that the apostles have seen the resurrected Jesus several times now, they seem to be retreating into the past. They’re headed backwards and Jesus must summon them, if you’ll pardon the expression, “back to the future.”

They were going back to fishing but the Lord calls them away from fishing and points them to the future, a future that includes going to all the nations and summoning them to saving faith.

This is a critical Gospel that shows us Jesus summoning the apostles back to their crucial call, a call that has its focus not in the past but in the future. Indeed, fellow believers, if this Gospel had not gone right, your faith and mine might well have been in jeopardy. We are the future that Jesus sought to preserve. Our own coming to the faith depended on whether Jesus was able to summon Peter and the other apostles back to the future.

Let’s look at this gospel in four stages.

1. Regrettable Reversal – The text says, At that time, Jesus revealed himself again to his disciples at the Sea of Tiberias. He revealed himself in this way. Together were Simon Peter, Thomas called Didymus, Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, Zebedee’s sons, and two others of his disciples. Simon Peter said to them, “I am going fishing.” They said to him, “We also will come with you.” So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.

Peter had no business going back to fishing. The Lord had clearly called him away from fishing. For example: And he said to them, follow me and I will make you fishers of men. Immediately, they left their nets and followed him (Mat 4:19).

But in today’s Gospel we see Peter going back to commercial fishing. This is not some sort of recreational fishing; the commercial nets are out. It is astonishing to think that after having encountered Jesus risen from the dead on at least two (and possibly more) occasions, he’s going back to fishing!

We often think that if only we were to see a miracle our faith would be strong, but there is very little evidence for this. Many who see signs and wonders, ponder whether what they have seen can be topped. Their fascination is engaged but not their faith. Ultimately, faith produces miracles; miracles do not produce faith.

Peter’s return to fishing is not only regrettable, it is scandalous. For in so doing it leads others say to him, “We will also go with you.” When we backslide we often bring others with us. Looking at it more positively, when we grow in holiness we also bring others with us. Sadly, Peter has regressed and others follow him. But as we shall see, the Lord will not abandon his church.

While we may wonder at St. Peter’s relapse, we should recognize that we, too, easily do the same. We praise Jesus with the same mouth that sometimes spews curses and gossip. We claim that we belong to Christ and are one body with Him, that we are a Temple of the Holy Spirit, and yet with that same body often comes forth fornication and other sexual impurity. We say that God is love, and yet from us too easily comes anger, hatred, and a lack of love for the poor and troubled.

We too easily run back to the things from which we have been called away. The Lord points us forward but we run backward.

Just as He did with the apostles in this Gospel, the Lord must stand on the shore of our baptismal waters, and call us out of the past and back into the future, a future of holiness and perfection. Too easily, we run from this. Yes, the Lord is faithful and stands on the shore calling us back. Would that we could say, in the words of an old gospel song, “Goodbye world, I stay no longer with you, goodbye pleasures of sin, I stayed along with you! I’ve made up my mind to go God’s way the rest of my life!” Another gospel song from the 1940s says, “No more, no more! I’ll never turn back no more! I’m going to keep on crossing till I reach the other shore. Rains may come, floods may roar, storms may race, and winds may blow, but I’ll never turn back, no more!”

Would that this were the case! But the Lord keeps calling us, calling from the shore, out across the waves of our discontent.

2. Redeeming Reminder – The text says, When it was already dawn, Jesus was standing on the shore; but the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, “Children, have you caught anything to eat?” They answered him, “No.” So he said to them, “Cast the net over the right side of the boat and you will find something.” So they cast it, and were not able to pull it in because of the number of fish. So the disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord.” When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he tucked in his garment, for he was lightly clad, and jumped into the sea. The other disciples came in the boat, for they were not far from shore, only about a hundred yards, dragging the net with the fish.

The Lord stands on the shore and does again for them what he had some three years earlier, when he called them from fishing to evangelizing. He does not excoriate them; He does not call them fools or some other epithet. He calls out to them, “Children, have you caught anything to eat?” And rather than rebuke them, He asks them to assess the situation, to consider whether the course of action they have chosen has yielded anything at all. They admit that they’ve caught nothing.

And yet, strangely, this whole incident seems familiar. The Lord tells him that if they cast the net over the other side of the boat they will find something. Suddenly the nets are full! Oh, how this spoke to their hearts; it was just what happened three years ago! Scripture says,

And when he had ceased speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” And Simon answered, “Master, we toiled all night and took nothing! But at your word I will let down the nets.” And when they had done this, they enclosed a great shoal of fish; and as their nets were breaking, they beckoned to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both the boats, so that they began to sink. But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.” For he was astonished, and all that were with him, at the catch of fish which they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. And Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; henceforth you will be catching men.” And when they had brought their boats to land, they left everything and followed him (Luke 5:4ff).

In today’s Gospel, John draws the obvious conclusion, “It is the Lord!”  The Lord has given them a redeeming reminder. He does not rebuke them; he only reminds them. In effect, He says “Come out of the past! Remember the future to which I have summoned you, a future of going forth to the nations and announcing the Gospel for all to hear. Your life is not about fish; it is about humanity!”

What reminders has the Lord put into your life? How has He stood on the shore and called to you with some reminder? Perhaps it was a tattered old Bible, or maybe an old hymn that you heard. Perhaps it was your grandmother’s old rosary beads stored away in a dresser drawer. Perhaps you are summoned to a funeral or wedding.

In moments like these, the Lord stands on the shore of life and calls to you. He reminds you of your call, and asks you to consider whether your present course is doing anything for you whatsoever. Usually, it has not. Perhaps there is fleeting wealth or momentary popularity, but otherwise there is little else to show for it.

And thus the Lord calls. He calls us back to the future, a future (and a present) oriented toward Heaven. Since you have been raised to new life with Christ, seek the things that are above, rather than the earth below (Colossians 3:1).

In the words of a popular hymn, “Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling, calling for you and for me. See on the portals he’s waiting and watching, watching for you and for me; Come home, come home! Ye who are weary come home! Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling, calling oh sinner come home!”

Here, then, is a redeeming reminder that Jesus is calling, softly and tenderly: “Come out of the past. Come away from commercial fishing. Look to the future, the future of saving souls!”

III. Reorienting Repast – The text says, When they climbed out on shore, they saw a charcoal fire with fish on it and bread. Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish you just caught.” So Simon Peter went over and dragged the net ashore full of one hundred fifty-three large fish. Even though there were so many, the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, “Come, have breakfast.” And none of the disciples dared to ask him, “Who are you?” because they realized it was the Lord. Jesus came over and took the bread and gave it to them, and in like manner the fish. This was now the third time Jesus was revealed to his disciples after being raised from the dead. When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” Simon Peter answered him, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” He then said to Simon Peter a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Simon Peter answered him, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” Jesus said to him the third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter was distressed that Jesus had said to him a third time, “Do you love me?” and he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.”

Notice three basic elements whereby the Lord uses a meal to reorient them. To reorient (re (again) + oriens (East)) literally means to turn someone back to the East, back toward the rising of the sun (Son), back toward the light and away from the darkness.

FISH – The fish are in, and their number is plentiful. The specific number, 153, has significance more for humanity than for fish. While much ink has been spilled on the significance of this number, the most likely explanation seems to be that this was the number of known nations at the time. And hence, that exactly 153 fish are caught seems to be the Lord’s way of saying, “…not fish, but humanity: all the nations!” We see that God can use even our backsliding, our sins, and use them to call us away from them. Yes, He can use our sins to be a teachable moment.

FIRE – As Peter comes ashore, he sees a fire. And though the text is silent on this, surely it must have unnerved him! For here was a charcoal fire, the same sort of fire that was in the courtyard of Caiaphas the high priest where Peter had denied the Lord (Jn 18:18). Hurt, and unnerved by what he had done—or rather failed to do—Peter felt unworthy. Yes, this fire reminded him of his denial of the Lord.

And yet even Peter’s repentance is somewhat egocentric. It would seem that he wonders, “How could I have done this, I, who promised the Lord to be with Him even if all should rage against Him!” But in moment of cowardice, Peter denied the Lord. Oh yes, this fire, this charcoal fire, is bothersome indeed! The Lord stands next to the fire and looks at Peter much as he had in the courtyard of Caiaphas when, after Peter had denied Him for the third time, Jesus turned and looked at Peter (Lk 22:61). How this fire bothered him!

FRANKNESS – But now comes a tender, poignant, and powerful conversation. To us who read the text in English, the conversation focuses on the fact that three times, the Lord asked Peter, “Do you love me?” But in Greek, there are subtleties that do not come through in the English translation.

In the English translation, the Lord asks Peter simply, “Do you love me?” And Peter answers, “Yes Lord, I love you.” The Greek text, however, is more subtle and more specific. In Greek, the Lord asks, Σίμων Ἰωάννου, ἀγαπᾷς με πλέον τούτων? (Simon Joannou agapas me pleon touton? – Simon, son of John, do you love (agapas) me more than these?). Jesus has asked about “agape” love. But Peter replies, κύριε, σὺ οἶδας ὅτι φιλῶ σε. (Kyrie, su oidas oti philo se. – Lord, you know that I have brotherly (philo) love for you.)

The Lord asked for agape love, the highest love, wherein we love God above all things and above all people, including ourselves. But Peter does not answer with agape love. Rather he replies that he loves the Lord in a brotherly (philo) way. This is far short of what the Lord asked. (I realize that there are debates about the Greek used in this passage, but I am convinced that the use of the two different verbs is significant. You can read more on this topic here: Agape vs Philo in John 21).

But in spite of Peter’s response of imperfect love, the Lord still has something important for St. Peter to do: Feed my lambs.

A second time, the same dialogue sets up wherein the Lord asks Peter, Σίμων Ἰωάννου, ἀγαπᾷς με (Simon, son of John, do you love (agapas) me? Peter responds, κύριε, σὺ οἶδας ὅτι φιλῶ σε (Lord you know that I have brotherly (philo) love for you. Again, the Lord has asked for unconditional, ultimate love. But Peter can only return a lesser love, a brotherly love, a sort of affection. Yet again, the Lord does not reject Peter. He accepts what Peter says and tells him, Tend my sheep.

On the third occasion, Jesus accepts what Peter is able to offer and asks him, Σίμων Ἰωάννου, φιλεῖς με; (Simon, son of John, do you have brotherly affection (phileis) for me? The third question, which strikes Peter to the heart, causes him to exclaim that he (only) has brotherly love. Yet again, the Lord does not reject Peter, but rather assigns him a task, saying once again, Feed my lambs.

This is perhaps one of the most poignant, beautiful, and honest moments in Scripture. The Lord looks with love to a disciple and asks him for the highest love; that disciple honestly answers that he has only imperfect love to offer. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Peter is being absolutely honest. There is no more posing, no more bragging—only an honest answer, borne out of sober appreciation of his human lapses. There is nothing more beautiful than honest prayer, for honesty is a prelude to healing. Jesus accepts what Peter is able to offer, and as we shall see, promises him that his heart will expand so that one day he will love the Lord totally, unconditionally, above all things, and above all people.

How about you? Are you honest with the Lord? Have you experienced His love in spite of your sin? Do you know that He can use you even in your weakness if you are willing to be honest with Him?

IV–Required Remedy – The text says, “Amen, amen, I say to you, when you were younger, you used to dress yourself and go where you wanted; but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.” He said this signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God. And when he had said this, he said to him, “Follow me.”

In this whole conversation, the Lord’s purpose is not to stalk Peter or to badger him. Rather, it is to lead him toward a necessary remedy, to point him back toward the future, a future filled with evangelical fervor and sacrificial love. Peter is weak now, but the Lord will give him strength. Within ten days after His Ascension, the Holy Spirit will come and Peter will be quickened, strengthened in the faith.

But even then, the work the Lord needs to do is not finished, for the Lord speaks of the day when Peter will finally have the grace to accept martyrdom. It will be a day when someone will tie him fast and lead him off to where he would rather not go. But Peter will go. And he will die for Christ.

In the end, Peter will be able to say, without any simulation or exaggeration, “I love you, Lord, totally, with agape love. I love you above all things, above all people, and above even my own life.”

For now, though, Peter is not ready. But the Lord will lead him by stages and get him ready.

How will Peter get there? How will we get there?  The Lord simply says, Follow me.

So, fellow disciples, the Lord is leading you to a deeper love, an unconditional love, a love above all other loves. Only the Lord can do this. He did it for Peter—a hard case, actually—and He can do it for you!

For now, though, He is standing on the shore and calling us to a richer future: